An Honourable Slut

The despair of Hanya's fingers coming out of his backside and having to wait that short time for Hanya to get the condom on then one of Hanya's strong arms went about his lean hard scarred chest, Hanya was setting that hard thick rod to Dar's arse and with a wrenching groan at last he was pressing his big cock in through the tender sensitive rim of the hole.

Sweet Heaven! he had hit Dar's sweet spot with that very first thrust and Dar was gone, gone in Hanya's arms, pressed to the wall over and over with the long soft slow fucking thrusts of Hanya's big muscular thighs pushing and pushing the big cock up into his hole. Dar was moaning like a virgin, helpless in the waves of pleasure that rippled out from Hanya's every gentle thrust, Hanya was moaning softly, pushing harder and faster, Dar was completely out of control, he came in a spurting helpless gasping molten ecstasy in Hanya Lein's arms, chucking his head backwards over Hanya's big shoulder to press in an exquisite outflung elation hard back, his grey eyes open wide and staring. Hanya gave a great groan that vibrated against his narrow scarred back, thrusting that big thick cock deep up into Dar and pushing him into the wall as he shot off in his own orgasm.

---

By the afternoon they were just lying in wordless joy, entangled in each other's limbs and bodies and the rough male kiss of the blanket keeping them warm and close. On the table by the window and around the bed were scattered the remains of lunch. They had enjoyed a creamy sweet pudding in ways the hotel cooks had probably not intended and lay sticky and sweet and smiling softly close together.

There was a knock on the door and a voice said: "Thy time for my allegiance."

Hanya's eyes snapped instantly into focus at the appeal of the junior for the senior officer's attention. Dar Vaie lay a moment longer in Hanya's arms, his brow creased by a tiny frown. None of his juniors would dare come in the room without his expressed permission to enter, ever since Lieutenant Farin had mistaken a muffled moan and had burst in on him in his bedroom at their winter quarters with his cock still filling the mouth of a visiting Lieutenant from Strategic.

Finally Dar got out of Hanya's arms, slung the sheet and his weaponry around his rangy hips and strode to the door of the room. Hanya saw the softness of love and passion fall away from him like a cast off cloak, his shoulders and back stiffened and as he opened the door with his scarred left hand, his right hand flexed ready to go for his weapons -- even though he must have recognised the voice asking for him.

There was a lengthy softly murmured conversation during which Dar Vaie stood with increasing displeasure evident in the set of his thin strong shoulders and the forward thrust of his strawberry blond head on his lean neck. Finally Dar said in a louder voice, "Go and have a bowl in the bar then, and I will give you my expressed orders in writing to take back. Ask them to send up some paper and a pen."

He shut the door and crossed to the table by the window, frowning angrily in the warm sunny light of the afternoon. Hanya got out of the bed and went to run a gentle hand through his reddish hair, to try and make him smile again, although his heart was sinking. "Do you have to go back to the encampment?" he asked, trying to make it plain in his voice that he understood Commander-Sir Dar Vaie had the responsibility of over two thousand men under his eye so Hanya would not start sulking and carrying on about it if Dar had to leave him, one silly little baby Lieutenant.

Dar turned his lean head under Hanya's caress, the frown slipping from his face.

"No no, my dear," he said softly. "I just need an half hour in which to think through what to tell the bloody fools to do in the first instance. They have made such a mess of it that I may 's well leave it till the morrow."

The morrow he would be gone then, back to his army command leaving Hanya just one of many pleasant memories a slut like he was could so casually enjoy. Hanya pushed down the tears rising in his eyes. He wished he could be as casual with his favours as Dar appeared to be. What fun Dar must have, he never had to feel this intense longing of the heart. Once his body's light longing had been satisfied, he moved on and out, carefree and well content.

"What's to do?" Hanya murmured, pressing his soft lips to Dar's ear while he got the glistening give-away tears out of his eyes. Angels' sake! he was going to get another night of pleasure was he not. He could tell that this was no common event with this hard-hunting handsome Commander-Knight. Then he remembered himself and said, "No, no, I know you cannot talk of your troop's business with me."

Dar laughed, catching Hanya's big hand and putting the fingers in his mouth. He sucked them suggestively and said past them, "Well my dear, if you are a spy you have been willing to offer up so much for so little information that they will probably hang you themselves for inefficiency!

"We are always in skirmishes and at war," he explained casually, "so the men are sick with nerves. They sent us down here to Iarve to get the troop a bit less wrought up. And now the bloody fools have tripped over some Iarvian troop encamped nearby and got into a skirmish with them!" He leant his head into his hand on his elbow on the table and his thin mouth puckered up ruefully. "There was nothing I could have done to prevent it," he said, "but it would have to happen while I was off playing with you, my dear, instead of keeping the troop under my eye. Ah well, no fatalities fortunately, just a few injuries and a righteously incensed Iarvian Commander to try to get around my fingers."

Hanya felt both dreadfully guilty to have lured Dar into such a misdemeanour and guiltily thrilled to have been able to do it. He said anxiously, "What will you do?"

"Well what would you do," Dar said idly.

Hanya felt that this was an opportunity to impress the battle-seasoned commanding officer sitting wrapped in a sheet in an hotel room he had been willing to pay for in order to fuck Hanya. What would the Commander, what would his beloved Captain, those two brilliant military strategists he was so proud to serve with, have done?

Hanya sat down naked in the other chair at the table and fell into an unconscious imitation of his adored Captain. He set one ankle on his knee and clasped it in his right hand, turned his head and looked sidelong at Dar, a flashing blue glance with a smile perched on his mouth. "Well, my dear," he drawled, "once the Iarvian Commander has simmered down he will bethink himself that the Generals' strategic staff will not be pleased to hear he has been caught up in skirmishes with a friendly visiting troop, whosoever's fault it may be."

But Dar had sprung suddenly up and was standing over him, his face was thunderous with emotion, his grey eyes flashed sparks. "Where in Hell did you learn to sit like that?" he hissed, his scarred left hand gripped on Hanya's big fingers on his ankle, his fingers bit hard into Hanya's hand.

"I ... I ...what do you mean?" Hanya stammered, his head coming back round to face forward again.

Dar dropped his hand and straightened up with a sudden heavy sigh. "I prithou pardon me," he said in a much gentler voice. "You reminded me ... of someone dear to my heart." His grey eyes lifted from Hanya were extraordinarily soft and misty with tears.

Hanya felt a dreadful bitter pang of jealousy. "Your lover?" he was unable to forbear asking.

But Dar only laughed, saying: "I wish!" which was possibly worse than if he had said, Yes. "No, my heart, not my lover. My friend." The grey eyes turned down to Hanya's soft young face were warm and full of both laughter and tears.

He had called Hanya his heart. Not that lazy aristocratic endearment/non-endearment 'my dear'. He had said, 'my heart'.

Dar Vaie hesitated but he was in too emotional a state now and he had flung his body so open to this sweetheart lovely and where was the harm, he was going to ride away from him with the troop the morrow. They would have to move on after this bloody incident with the Iarvian troop. Although perhaps he could ride back for a night or two if they made camp not too far further into Iarve.

"You reminded me of my brother officer," he said. "I love him with all my heart. But he is the younger son of the sworn Lord and, because of some scandalous affair his mother got into, the sworn Lord do not favour him. We all thought he would be put into the strategic staff offices and go on to be the Lord General to his brother as the sworn Lord. He is too good a strategic mind to bestow off on some other region's oldest daughter and run their bloody army with his consummate skills. But a year or two back something happened. He disappeared and I have never seen nor had word of him since," there was a longing love in his voice that Hanya was no longer jealous of, Hanya understood that what Dar was talking about was the companionship of a friend closer to your heart and mind than a brother or sister, someone you would never go and lie with in passion although you might pretend to consider it sometimes in case that might be a way to lock your friend even closer to you in love.

"There were four of us," Dar said dreamily. "Two of us were Knights, one the son of our Commander, one the son of a General, one was the younger son of the sworn Lord. They put us under the Captaincy of the young future sworn Lord of a friendly neighbouring region to strengthen the tie with him. Our own future sworn Lord was a Captain in the troop, and later our Commander," he was almost whispering now, his grey eyes dim with the memories. "Oh my Commander," he said softly. "My life, my days, my fight. There were four of us, tip-top rising stars and as handsome as the sun. They called us the Angels. I am for them through Hell and through life," he murmured. It was the kind of vow silly baby Lieutenants make to each other when they do not yet know what warfare is like then years later in the middle of the horrific trauma of battle, they realise it is true. "My friend was the most brilliant and most beautiful of us four Angels. Where is he now?" he whispered sadly. He sat leaning his head on his arm, thinking wistfully of the exquisite slanted blue eyes, the dark-haired head whose feminine grace was undone by the cropped short hair and the salacious wicked laughter that would spurt from the corner of the rose-petal mouth of his brother officer and best friend.

They were coming knocking with the paper and pens, Dar Vaie sat up and his eyes cleared and hardened. He sat at the table thinking and writing with a determined set to his lean jaw bristly with the stubble he had not shaved off that morning. Hanya lay in the bed dreamily watching his lover engaged on the business of his troop with a light frown of concentration between his grey eyes. Finally he saw Dar Vaie seal sets of papers, pressing into warm red wax the seal he had fetched from a pocket full of condoms.

Dar sent for a bath before dressing and going down to his junior officer to give him the orders expressed in writing and a letter to be sent with despatch to the Iarvian Commander. When he came back, Hanya had taken his turn in the bath but he had not troubled to shave either. Dar came in the door and saw Hanya's big muscled clean lightly tanned limbs lying out over the rumpled bedclothes, naked, his cock just starting to stir hopefully again. He lay as soft and blond as butter in the bed, his blue eyes lifted warm and smiling. Dar smiled automatically in reply. He crossed quickly to the table and scrawled on a sheet of paper, pressed his seal into some wax he dripped on the bottom of the sheet which he brought over and held out to Hanya.

"There," he said in a rough careless voice. "That's my full designation. You ... you can write to me, if you must." Those blue eyes lifted tremulous with happiness. Hanya knew exactly what this meant. Dar added hurriedly, "I am a slut, you know. Just because ... we have an understanding between us, I will not be able to stop myself throwing a favour to whoever if I trip over someone."

But Hanya only said, "you will not wave it in my face, though?"

"You ... you may do as you please too, of course," Dar said in that rough pretend careless voice. Hanya only smiled as he took the piece of paper from Dar's trembling fingers. Hanya was a sweetheart, he did not chuck his favours around like kerchiefs far and wide. Dar knew that even though he would occasionally go and have a casual quick fuck in his slut's way, if Hanya ever did it and he found out who the man was, he would kill him.

Hanya's head had gone down to read the slanting scrawled writing on the paper: Commander-Sir Dar Vaie of Tenth Sietter, contactable through the troop's winter quarters in Rejiel. Under the writing was the seal with Dar's insignia in it: the two curved lines meaning the Sietter Hills, a little tower off to one side designating his castle and lands, a deer leaping over between the hills and a banner because Dar was a Commander.

---

After a while, Dar said hesitantly, "Is there a problem?"

Hanya's face lifted to him was pale and set and the warm loving happy blue eyes were full of tears now. It was evident that there was a serious problem. "Um," Hanya muttered, "I am Lieutenant Hanya Lein of Sixth H'las."

Dar stood quite still. His right hand lifted from his hip and hovered for a moment as if it would go to his sword hilt. Hanya lay naked over the bed below him, his weaponry hanging over the footboard with his clothes out of his reach, his blue eyes clouded with tears. Dar turned about and walked over to the table where they had chatted over breakfast and eaten some of their lunch, courteously avoiding asking about what troop the other served in, continuing to assume each other was from Iarve even though it had gradually become clear that this could not be the case.

Dar Vaie's head was like a frozen block, on the top of which only a few stupid irrelevant thoughts could slip and slide.

"Oh Sixth H'las," he said in a light bright voice. "Your Commander is young el Gaiel van H'las. They say he is a tip-top strategic mind."

"Um, yes," Hanya replied, staring at him with tear-filled blue eyes.

"The chain of command in H'las is centred on duty of care to the men and juniors," Dar Vaie burbled on. "How fortunate you are to be serving in such conditions," that lovely gentle assertive baby Lieutenant, how far he was going to rise in such a chain of command. "My ... my friend," Dar said huskily, "my brother officer el Maien van Sietter was always a great admirer of the structure of the chain of command in H'las. And of the skills of el Gaiel van H'las, even though ... their families have of course long been sworn enemies."

There was nothing that could be said to this and Hanya only lay naked on the bed staring at him from tear-filled cloudy blue eyes.

"Hear me, my dear," Dar said softly. "I am no baby Lieutenant who can play with the enemy and get off with a caution. I am a commanding officer and ... I am pinned to go up to strategic. Do you understand? They have begun to say that if el Maien cannot come back and be the Lord General they will take me up to consider me for Major General, especially because I was Commander-Lord Clair el Maien's junior and they know I am bound to his heart, as are we all who were his juniors. I cannot be getting letters off some ... piece of trimming I tripped over from H'las."

The tears spilled suddenly from Hanya's blue eyes down his soft cheeks, over his quivering warm red lips, into the soft blond stubble on his jaw. "We ... we are not at war now!" he sobbed.

"Angels' sake!" Dar sprang out of the chair with his face twisted with anger and bitter frustration. "van Sietter and van H'las have met four times now without striking an accord! It is only a matter of time. van H'las would have to make up a political strategy worthy of my friend el Maien's twisting brain to stop that old snake van Sietter shuffling him into war!" Hanya only sobbed and held a pleading big hand out. Dar crossed rapidly to him but the hand he laid on the velvet blond head of his lover and his enemy was caressingly gentle. "My sweetheart," he said huskily. "I am a veteran of Shier Bridge. What do your brother officers say of us Sietter who fought for Clair el Maien's banner on that day? We tore the lives out of two whole H'las troops using the bloody Vashin Bird -- Angels of Hell! V-Vashin!" he had gone white and had started trembling, he bit his lip hard to force the anguished sobs back in his tight throat.

"Th-they say what skill el Maien showed, to defeat two troops with only one at his back," Hanya sobbed, "and what honour -- to go to court and beg for peace for us all, Sietter and H'las alike, instead of pushing on down to conquer H'las off the back of his victory."

"Push on down to H'las!" Dar Vaie repeated incredulously. "Three quarters of the troop in one grave, the rest carrying serious injury and the Commander so wounded in his mind, so stricken with what we made him do to give him the victory that he never lifted his arm the signal to a troop again! A-Angels of Hell! Pale bloody Angels of Hell!"

He got up away from the sobbing H'las officer lying on the bed where they had fondled every part of each other's bodies and strode away to the door. He left Lieutenant Hanya Lein sobbing over the bed, almost ran down the stairs in a cotton shirt stained with Hanya's cum, calling angrily for his bill of fare. He threw money at the counter while they were trying to write it out for him, too much, what did he care. He stormed out into the sunny afternoon and started striding up the dusty road towards his troop's encampment.

Those bloody merchants, they went everywhere, sneaking all over the country like rats undertaking their grubby trading activities. If he had only had the sense to fall in love with some aristo there would have been none of this, 'oh I am from another region visiting my uncle and aunt in Iarve'. Should have stayed hung about Tashka el Maien's heart, no chance of a wretched affair with Tashka, he would have been safe, safe from this dreadful heartbreak.

Oh the butter blond velvet head, the big soft muscular chest, the gentle fingers squeezing his buttock, the blue eyes lifting with that limpid open loving gaze. Oh Hanya, Hanya!

He spun on his heel and ran back to the hotel, ran up the stairs ignoring the astonished stares of the hotel staff -- damnation, they had already been overpaid had they not.

Hanya sat up on the bed as he burst back into the room, Dar's face was white and his grey eyes fierce with the horror of what he had been through in the war with Hanya's brother officers and men. Dar Vaie came over and seized Hanya as roughly as he had once been seized himself by a brutal Sietter General, he spun Hanya's big soft muscled body about and jerked his knees between Hanya's to force them apart, holding Hanya down on the bed with an hard hand on the back of his neck. Hanya was still crying, partly with fear now. He knew what was coming to him but he lay unresisting under Dar's strong hard hands for the brief moment while Dar dragged his buttons open and shoved a condom on. Hanya's arse was still moist from the pleasures of their lunchtime fucking but he gave a little scream of pain when Dar fucked him hard with a rock-hard cock straight down, deep down into him, holding him down with an hand on the back of his neck, holding his knees apart with firm knees. Every time Dar shoved into him, grunting with rage and despair, Hanya gave a moan, Dar could not tell if it was with pleasure or pain and he did not care. The buckle of his sword belt was sticking into Hanya's big buttocks as he thrust down into him and then he came in teeth-gritting rage and despair. He fell across Hanya's broad back and burst into tears, white and trembling and sobbing like he had been after Shier Bridge -- the last time he saw Tashka el Maien, who had been too young to take to war but who had to come back and pull them together, the shattered remnants of Fourth Sietter, and lead them away from the field of dreadful victory because the Commander had lost his mind to his grief. Dar lay sobbing over the back of an H'las soldier like the soldiers he had slaughtered that day, not even noticing that one of them had slashed the knuckles of his left hand until the battle was done with. He lay grieving desperately for the loss of one thousand four hundred and fifty-nine men; the loss of ten merry-eyed bright young Lieutenants -- he lost all four of his own Lieutenants that day; the loss of Captain-Sir Hanya Vashin, the ice-eyed laughing pattern of military perfection who designed a strategy to give the Commander victory and lost his own life in it, throwing himself in the way of an H'las spear aimed at the Commander's heart. Hanya had turned over under him and clasped him close in strong arms, he lay sobbing with huge heaving gasps in the tender embrace of a soldier who was exactly like one thousand eight hundred and seventy-six strong brave kind-hearted H'las soldiers who fell before the cold-hearted brilliance of the Fourth Sietter officers and their horrifically elegant strategy the Vashin bird.